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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115372">haven.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelins/pseuds/aelins'>aelins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Crescent City Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coffee Shops, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pregnancy, Pseudo-Incest, it's supposed to remind you of pride and prejudice, or at least the beginning, scenery porn i guess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:29:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelins/pseuds/aelins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A concept: the stars align and the heavens shine down on them, the bonds that tether them are cut loose--and they are free.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ruhn Danaan/Bryce Quinlan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>haven.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is for twitter user <a href="https://twitter.com/kreahbu">kreahbu</a> who was very kind to me and inspired me to pick up writing again.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">It was late, so late that it was early and in the rolling fog across the streets of Lunathion—Ruhn Danaan stalks the streets. He’s not on Aux duty, but he is always moving these days. He flees from the place he shares with Dec and Tris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He is looking for her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Always, <em>always</em>, looking for her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It is summer and a chilly rain has been pouring from the heavens all night—the paving stones, still warm from the day’s heat make thick, curling steam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce is waiting, only her face not obscured by the dense steam and fog.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why do you insist on meeting at the ass crack of dawn?” Bryce asks, a smile on her face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ruhn lets rumbling laugher pour from his throat, approaches her, and drops a kiss to her forehead, “I’ve got to keep you on your toes, didn’t you know?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce grouses but it doesn’t matter.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Coffee first, or should we talk first?” Bryce asks. She has something to tell him, a heart to break.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Always coffee first,” Ruhn says giving her a hug that lingers for a moment too long.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce huffs a laugh and nods, “Let’s go, caffeine fiend.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They go to the local, indie coffee shop. The staff looks bleary-eyed and like they too haven’t had their life-giving coffee either.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce fidgets with the papers in her hand. Ruhn pays for their drinks, and they go and wait for them at the other end of the bar.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“An extra dry cappuccino, and a caramel macchiato—with oat milk and extra drizzle.” The barista calls after a moment.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She’s simply been looking at Ruhn, taking in every inch of his face. She wants to remember him like this—sleepy and ready to begin the day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She does not want to contemplate what she has to tell him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Maybe if they had been more careful—a little cleverer—they could have managed it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They sit at a table and Ruhn sighs at the taste of his cappuccino. “So what’s up, love?” Ruhn asks.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce flushes, and Ruhn quirks a brow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bryce—you can tell me,” Ruhn says softly. “If it’s Athalar harassing you again, I’ll deal it with.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce shakes her head as if the dispel the very idea of Hunt’s existence from her mind. “No it’s not that. It’s—you and—“ does she dare say it? “It’s us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ruhn squeezes her hand in encouragement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce swallows hard, and she inhales shakily, removing three sheets of crumpled and worn paper from her purse.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">First, she slides him the birth certificate. The <em>real</em> birth certificate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We’re not brother and sister, not even half or step.” There is silver lining her eyes, and she blinks rapidly. “I’m Randall’s daughter.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ruhn feels like he’s been punched in the chest. Bryce doesn’t stop the assault on his reality though.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And this is the court order that prevents Athalar from coming anywhere near me, one thousand feet, actually,” Bryce presses forward, doling out truth after truth. “And this is a photo of—“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ruhn’s eyes widen, and Bryce doesn’t finish her sentence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is it mine?” Ruhn asks, and she knows he want it to be his.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce lets a happy tear roll down her cheek, “Yes, of course.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ruhn hates that they’re in public for this.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s go home princess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bryce lets a shaky and tired laugh fall from her lips.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So they leave, and though it is only five-forty-five in the morning—they’re both so wound tight, they nearly don’t make it in the door to Bryce’s place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And as Ruhn slides off her clothes, and puts her legs on his shoulders, she realizes that this was always where she was meant to be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I love you,” Ruhn murmurs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“More than the sun and stars,” Bryce purrs into his shoulder as he thrusts slowly into her. This is their cosmic dance, a dance that has changed over the years, but remains wholly the same all at once.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They are destined to chase each other throughout their long lives.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Their story—though not a happy one—will never be a tragedy.</p>
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